


*******

by tadojoon (namtae)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: idk - Freeform, im just sad while writing this, yes i wrote it directly sorry if it's messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-17 15:57:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namtae/pseuds/tadojoon





	*******

Johnny knew something was up when he stopped caring. 

He knew that no one cared about him, and he was useless for society. So he should stop caring about himself, too. 

 

He knew, but since he stopped caring, he didn't do anything to fix his situation. The young man stopped showering, eating and going out, with friends or family, he didn't care at all about it.

 

He ignored calls.

 

Messages.

 

They even banged at his door. His members, his friends, family, manager, even the CEO. He didn't open, to none of them. He didn't want help. He wanted someone truly caring about him. 

 

Even his parents were hypocrites, only wanting his son to be successful, waiting 9 and half years for him to finally debut, to finally be "someone", not because he had a dream. Fame was the reason for his parents. 

 

Or  that's what Johnny thought about his situation in life. 

 

Johnny lost his hope, his life force, he lost the way. Which way was better, left or right? Johnny couldn't tell.

 

The usually hyped and bubbly man was no longer there, depression taking over his slender body. 

 

He stared at the window all day, with the constant ringing of his phone getting on his nerves, the door banging, his manager yelling. What was the point  anyway? 

The hate went from malleable to unbearable, his antis mobbing him, sending hate even to the other members just because he existed. If only he stopped existing. 

The excruciating pain of waking up to the same, over and over again. Breakfast, training till even his trousers would hurt and then lunch, training, then shower, sleep, and wake up at 3 am for a schedule. His fans, his NCTizens made it better, but he could hear the laughs of the antis on the back of his head. He could hear their expectations of him failing at something, to mock him.

 

He could listen to the mock of his dongsaengs when he wasn't there, the disappointment of his parents because he didn't got much lines just as the almost maknae of 127. It wasn't  Mark's fault, at all. But the boy was more talented. Everyone else was more talented than him. Every idol in the world was better than him.

 

He turned around and stated at a tiny razor blade he always had on his bedside table.

 

It was so easy to end it all, but he was a coward. He would turn around every morning, stare at the tiny piece of metal. He would caress it with his rough fingertips, only just a bit... cutting his skin superficially. 

 

But today, he was feeling brave. He took the piece of razor with his fingers, holding it softly. Ironically, Johnny didn't want to have his fingers with little cuts itching and bothering him. He slowly cuddled his pillow, tucking one arm down of the soft piece of cloud that always accompanied him, and with no any doubts, he let it pass.

Johnny leaded the razorblade to his wrist, that was laying on the bed. He groaned in pain, but internally he was relieved. He knew from the internet that the cut had to be vertical, and that's what he did. He stared blankly at the blood sprouting up from his arm. And he did it again. And again. And again. Until his vein was totally destroyed. 

 

He sobbed softly because of the unbearable pain he was feeling from his arms.... But minute by minute the pain was ceasing. 

 

 

 

 

When the door was slammed by the members and some police officers, they went to the bed, horrified. 

 

Johnny looked peaceful, like he was sleeping. His eyes closed but relaxed, a little smile creeping on his plump and pink lips, now cold and slowly becoming blue. 

The blood stained his already red blankets, but it looked like it was immaculate. But the fact was, that the mutilated wrist was there, making all of them realize, that John Seo was no longer with them, their beloved hyung and friend. They couldn't help him with his fears. 

 

They couldn't save Johnny, from Johnny. Himself was the problem. 

 

His mind was his executioner. 


End file.
